


and it's good for us

by Aurum



Series: Sexual Healing, a.k.a. Ippo's magic cock [2]
Category: Hajime no Ippo | Fighting Spirit
Genre: First Time Blow Jobs, Fluff and Humor, M/M, Magical Healing Cock
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-06-25
Updated: 2017-06-25
Packaged: 2018-11-18 20:18:27
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,286
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11298096
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Aurum/pseuds/Aurum
Summary: How Ippo learned to stop worrying and love his dick.





	and it's good for us

**Author's Note:**

> At long last, a continuation of magic cock! Well, this is actually more of a part three, but it really wanted to be written now and I try not to look my muse in the mouth. Please trust me and roll with it.
> 
> Title from "Sexual Healing" by Marvin Gaye.

Getting Ippo into Miyata's bed turns out to be more complicated than expected.

The first obstacle is their schedules conspiring against them. Miyata's suddenly booked up with sparring sessions, and with Ippo's duties both in and out of the gym, they barely manage to meet for road work for a while.

Their good luck (or, more likely, the good will of Ippo's gym mates) runs out as well and the gym is far from empty whenever Miyata makes his way there. The most action they manage to get is a few quick kisses in the shade of the tree by the river. That's nice too, but it doesn't make Miyata any more patient for what he's got planned.

Finally his schedule clears up a little, and when he asks while they're running along the river on their usual route, Ippo admits he doesn't have any obligations for the rest of the evening either. Miyata hums in acknowledgment and absently tugs at the zipper of his jersey as Ippo chatters on about a new onset of the Takamura/Aoki prank war.

They're following the curve of the path when Miyata uses a lull in the rather one-sided conversation to ask: "Do you want to come over to my place?"

Ippo stares at him for a long moment, until his inattention makes him stumble on a rock and veer off the path with a yelp, close to tumbling down the riverbank. Miyata sighs and slows down a little until Ippo catches up to him again.

"Yes, of course!" Ippo says then, looking more red in the face, probably not with exertion. "I'd love to visit you, Miyata-kun! Just, um..." He looks down at himself and plucks at the damp collar of his t-shirt.

"I do have a shower, if you really want to take one," Miyata says, quirking a small smile at him. "And clothes," he adds, though if all goes well they won't need those for long.

Ippo's face clears of worries as he smiles back. "Okay!" he agrees easily, and goes on to talk about something Itagaki did at practice. Miyata's not sure what that's about, because he mostly checks out at the first mention of Ippo's pest of a kouhai, and just steers them in the direction of his apartment.

Once there, Ippo toes off his shoes, lines them up along the wall and recites his 'excuse me', as if there's anybody there he needs to impress with his manners. Then he proceeds to stare around the room with naked curiosity. Miyata casts a look around to make sure it's still the same apartment he left earlier in the day. And it is, nothing about the lack of decor has changed in his absence, and yet somehow it seems to be fascinating to Ippo.

"The bathroom's through there, if you want it," he says finally, gesturing at the door. Not that there's exactly a lot of options to choose from between the bathroom and the exit.

"Ah, right," Ippo says, torn out of his contemplation of a small mirror hanging on the wall. "I'm gonna..." He flails his hand in what's probably meant to symbolize showering and shuffles in that direction.

"I'll get a towel and some clothes for you," Miyata offers, since that seems like the thing to do. "In case you need them," he adds after a pause.

Ippo thanks him and disappears into the bathroom, closing the door behind himself with a quiet click. Miyata takes a slow breath and goes to retrieve a t-shirt and sweatpants from his drawer. He waits for the sounds of water to start and pops into the bathroom to leave the clothes and a towel next to the sink. Then he paces twice along the length of his room, scowls at himself, and leans against the counter, drumming his fingers on the thoroughly fake marble.

He knows exactly what Ippo looks like when he's naked and wet, which is at once helpful for passing the time while Ippo uses his shower, and possibly detrimental to Miyata's mental health, since it seems to make any other thoughts impossible while he waits.

Finally the shower stops, and shortly after that Ippo emerges from the bathroom. To Miyata's mild disappointment but no real surprise, Ippo's decided to dress himself again. Actually, maybe Miyata should've given him Ippo's shirt back, the one Miyata borrowed some time ago and wore to sleep once or twice to make better use of it before laundry day, but it didn't occur to him before.

He gave Ippo his own t-shirt instead, along with a random pair of sweatpants, and the clothes look... big. Or rather, they make Ippo look small with how the shirt hangs past his hips and the pant legs pool over his bare feet. It's not news that Ippo's smaller than Miyata — that's the source of most of the problems in Miyata's life — but now, probably for the first time, he finds himself feeling appreciative of the difference in their builds.

He trails a look back up Ippo's body and tunes in just in time to catch Ippo thanking him again for something or other. "No problem," Miyata replies, pushing off the counter. "Make yourself comfortable, I'll be right back." Then he steps into the bathroom and counts to three on an exhale.

He doesn't exactly hurry through his shower, but he doesn't linger either, cleaning himself efficiently and carefully not thinking about anything, particularly not about what might be happening on the other side of the door. He dries himself off and puts on the sweatpants he usually wears to bed, forgoing a shirt after a moment of consideration. No use putting it on just to take it off again in a minute, and hopefully it'll help move the proceedings along. He takes a quick look in the mirror, judges his damp look as acceptable, and reaches for the handle.

Miyata didn't seriously expect Ippo to arrange himself on his bed in the meantime, but he thought maybe he'd perch on the edge, or at least hover in the general vicinity. Instead Miyata exits the bathroom to find Ippo on the other side of the room, standing in front of a shelf. He looks at Miyata with eyes lit up with excitement.

"I found your championship belt, Miyata-kun," he says, turning back to trace his fingers reverently over the shiny leather. "And I started thinking about your title match. I was there, of course," he adds quickly, as if that was in question. As if Miyata can't remember the feeling of Ippo's eyes on him as he wore the belt for the first time. Ippo sighs a little. "It was the coolest."

"I don't know about that," Miyata says, shifting in place. He's certainly had fights that made him look better, when he didn't have to fight so desperately for a chance to catch up to Ippo.

"It was!" Ippo insists. "Though all of your fights were great, but I think that one is my favorite." The ability to spout things like that without a trace of embarrassment may be Ippo's biggest talent, even taking into account his other considerable gifts. He places his hand gently on top of the belt, then snatches it back a moment later. "Oh, I hope it's okay that I touched it!"

Miyata's hand curls into a fist in his pocket. "It's okay." It's just not the kind of touching he's been hoping for here.

Ippo smiles at him and looks around the room again. "Your place is very cool," he says with all appearance of sincerity.

"Thanks," Miyata replies at length, and then gives up on any kind of subtlety. "Have you seen the bed yet?"

"Oh!" Ippo looks in that direction with the same guileless smile, like he thinks he's meant to check out the aesthetic value. But then the realization dawns on him finally, judging by the flush rising on his face. He looks between Miyata and the bed a few times with wide eyes. " _Oh_ , um. It's... very cool too?"

Miyata can't keep a snort from escaping then, too loud to cover up with a cough. "You can take a closer look," he says, but Ippo seems frozen in place now, going nowhere just like this whole endeavor. This probably needs a more hands-on approach, so Miyata steps close to him and leans down to catch Ippo's lips in a kiss. At the very least it's a good excuse to stop talking.

This part is familiar enough by now that Ippo relaxes a little at the touch, tilting his head up and kissing back with a small pleased sound. Miyata slides a hand around Ippo's waist and pulls him closer still, and Ippo leans into him, his mouth parting with a puff of breath. Miyata hums a little against his lips, pleased with the progress, and pushes his leg between Ippo's thighs as he licks into his mouth.

Ippo gasps into the kiss, his hips hitching against Miyata's thigh, and his hands come up to grip Miyata's arms. Miyata's pulse speeds up with a thrill of victory at the evidence of Ippo's interest, obvious even through two layers of cloth. When Miyata pulls him towards the bed some moments later, Ippo follows with no hesitation, and it may not be very graceful but miraculously they manage not to trip over anything on their way. Things are definitely looking up.

Miyata pulls away long enough to help tug his own shirt off Ippo, then dives back in before either of them can catch their breath. He pulls at the string holding the sweatpants up, and once that's undone, they barely need any help sliding down Ippo's hips to pool on the floor. And then all it takes is a push and Ippo finally lands on Miyata's bed, flailing with a startled sound. He looks up at Miyata with eyes wide with surprise and arousal. Miyata allows himself a second to take in the sight, the whole expanse of Ippo's flushed skin sprawled on his sheets, before he follows him down, his blood rushing with anticipation.

He gives Ippo one more kiss, deep and wet, and then draws back to move down the bed, nudging Ippo's thighs further apart so he can settle between them. He takes Ippo's cock in his hand and strokes once, swiping his thumb over the head. And then, before he can second-guess himself out of doing what he's been thinking of for the better part of the week, he leans down to trail his tongue up the length of Ippo's cock.

It seems like all of the air leaves Ippo in a gasping moan, which sounds promising. Miyata does it again, a long slide from the base up, then concentrates on the head, licking over it in broad strokes of his tongue and trying to familiarize himself with the feeling.

It's going well until Ippo makes a noise that's more alarmed than good. "Miyata-kun, wait," he says, sounding winded. It would be gratifying if he wasn't interrupting Miyata at the same time. "Are you hurt?"

"I haven't even put it in my mouth yet," Miyata says, pulling away with a huff. "How would I get hurt?"

Ippo slaps his hands over his face, but it does a poor job of hiding his blush, which spreads down his neck and to his chest. "No, that's not—" he starts, but ends in a wheeze.

Miyata sighs and makes himself more comfortable where he's hovering over Ippo's hips, since this may take a while. He wipes some spit off his lips with the back of his hand and considers Ippo's cock, just centimeters away but separated from him by Ippo's as yet unidentified hang-ups.

Finally Ippo clears his throat and lowers his hands. "I mean, are you injured?" he asks carefully.

"No," Miyata replies.

"Nothing's hurting you?" Ippo continues, propping himself up on his elbows to better look at Miyata with a worried frown.

"No." That's not quite the truth, but close enough to it. Miyata was sparring earlier, so he may be a bit bruised, but that's not even worth a mention. And anyway he's already feeling better from the scant seconds of quality time with Ippo's cock he got before Ippo's conscience or whatever reared up unnecessarily.

"Oh, good," Ippo says then, his face lighting up with a smile.

Was he really worrying about Miyata's health with Miyata's tongue on his dick? That's... equal parts ridiculous and endearing, but that describes easily half of what comes out of Ippo's mouth, so maybe it shouldn't come as a surprise. Miyata snorts a little, more amused now than irritated, and pushes himself up so he can move up the bed.

Ippo's eyes grow darker as Miyata draws closer, the brown almost swallowed by the pupils, and his lips part with a flash of his tongue as he licks them unconsciously. Miyata moves in so his nose brushes against Ippo's, then backs up to ask: "You don't mind, do you?"

"Mind...?" Ippo echoes, blinking slowly.

"Where my mouth was just now," Miyata says, and looks down Ippo's body partly to have an excuse to hide the curve of his lips.

Ippo follows his gaze, as if he needs to actually see what Miyata's talking about — his cock, flushed hard and glistening faintly, still wet with Miyata's saliva. He sucks in a startled breath and swallows thickly, his eyes jerking back up. "No, no no, I don't mind at all," he says quickly, attention fixed on Miyata's mouth.

Miyata almost wants to laugh, if only to give an outlet to the feeling swelling in his chest, but kissing Ippo feels like a better use of his time, so he does that instead. Ippo slides his tongue past Miyata's lips like he's chasing after something, and Miyata probably doesn't taste like much of anything, not from just licking over Ippo's skin, but Ippo doesn't seem disappointed at all. Miyata sucks lightly on his tongue, then follows with his own, kissing him slowly now, like they have all the time in the world.

And they do — there's no real rush this time, no danger of interruption, so he doesn't _need_ to jump straight to the main event, even if it's tempting. But this is good too, letting the anticipation build up with every heartbeat as he moves his lips against Ippo's and listens to the slick noises they make. And the best thing about it is the effect it has on Ippo, how Miyata can feel tension melt out of him with every sighed breath. It seems like Miyata's finally on the right track to make him loose and dazed enough that he stops worrying about stupid stuff and just enjoys it.

Ippo barely needs any urging from Miyata to lie flat on the bed, and Miyata follows, leaning down and trailing kisses along Ippo's jaw. When he presses his face against Ippo's neck, Ippo tilts his head back to bare more skin, so Miyata rewards him by licking up the line of his pulse. Ippo radiates warmth, his skin flushed with the rush of his blood, and he smells clean, and like Miyata's soap. It's a good smell on him.

The only problem is the quiet, with Ippo barely making any noise above his quick breaths, like he thinks he needs to keep it hushed to fit the mood. Miyata scrapes his teeth lightly over his collarbone, drawing a stifled moan out of Ippo, then repeats the motion on the other side to encourage the reaction. It's a work in progress, but it seems like Ippo's reactions grow a little more unrestrained with every sucking kiss, and this feels good too, each sound like a minor victory for Miyata.

On his way down Miyata's attention catches on a flash of pink out of the corner of his eye and he follows it to Ippo's nipple. He gives it a swipe with his tongue too, and a whine tears out of Ippo's throat, startlingly loud after the hushed noises. The sound shivers down Miyata's spine as he pulls back, eyes shooting up. Ippo's chest strains up to follow Miyata's mouth, and then he falls back down and breathes a quiet _ah_ , like he's surprised by his own reaction. Miyata makes a considering noise and licks it again, and again, enjoying the feeling of the nipple rising up under his tongue and Ippo shifting restlessly on the sheets.

Miyata breathes out slowly to calm the pounding of his heart and carefully takes the nipple between his teeth, tugging gently. And then he sucks, drinking in the sound of Ippo's moan as a reward for his patience. When finally he pulls away, it's dark pink, hard and almost obscenely wet with his spit. Ippo's eyes are squeezed shut, his expression almost pained as he pants through his open mouth. Miyata gives Ippo's nipple one last lick with the flat on his tongue and moves to give a similar treatment to the other one, in the interest of fairness.

If he's rushing a bit, it's only because he has a larger goal in sight, so close now he can almost taste it even as he traces a circle around Ippo's nipple with the tip of his tongue. When his lips close around it, Ippo lets out a strangled sob and kicks out in restless reaction, and doesn't even apologize when his leg bumps into Miyata's thigh.

This is a much better discovery than expected, definitely worthy of further investigation in the future, but for now Miyata has his mind set on Ippo's cock and the heady rush of arousal isn't making him any more patient. With that in mind he leaves a parting kiss on the raised nipple and shuffles further down the bed.

He tries to arrange himself on the sheets between Ippo's legs with minimal wriggling, feeling his mouth water in anticipation as he ends up just above Ippo's cock again. As an unlucky side effect it gives Ippo time to gather himself enough to speak. "So, um..." he starts, then pauses to clear his throat when his voice comes out raspy.

 _What now_ , Miyata doesn't say, but it's a close thing. He groans instead, a sound of annoyance rather than anything good, and tips to the side to flop over Ippo's thigh. He presses his cheek to the side of Ippo's abdomen and heaves a sigh. _Why_ is Ippo still talking, or thinking for that matter? Is Miyata doing something wrong?

Ippo breathes a startled gasp, his muscles jumping like maybe he's ticklish, but that's not enough to distract Miyata from the sight of Ippo's cock, so close and yet so far. It's curved over his stomach and flushed an almost angry red, like it too resents getting cockblocked by Ippo's moral dilemmas, or whatever's the cause of the current delay.

"You don't need the... healing thing..." Ippo continues haltingly. "So you just want to...?"

"Yeah, I want to suck your dick," Miyata says, since apparently he needs to spell it out even with his mouth close enough to send his breath rushing over Ippo's cock. "Is that a problem?"

"A-absolutely not! Not a problem at all!" Ippo stammers.

Miyata closes his eyes and just breathes for a moment, turning his face further against Ippo's side. Ippo twitches again when Miyata's nose brushes the skin over his hip (probably actually ticklish, then). "Do _you_ want it?" Miyata asks, since they're already talking about feelings or intentions or... whatever, and because the answer seems less obvious when Ippo keeps stopping him every time Miyata gets close to his cock.

"Of course!" Ippo says quickly, and he sounds more sure about this than anything so far. He props himself up again, jostling Miyata where he's still communing with Ippo's obliques, and takes a deep breath. Miyata can't see his face, but it's probably doing something stupid. "You know I... I want everything with you, Miyata-kun."

Good, they're on the same page after all. "Okay," Miyata agrees and pushes up on his elbow to hover over Ippo's cock again, looking up to check for signs of bolting. There are none, finally, Ippo just bites his lip as he watches Miyata with eyes blown wide with arousal.

Miyata breaks eye contact to focus on Ippo's dick, holds it with one hand to bring it closer to his mouth and licks up the length, drawing a whimper out of Ippo. He does it again, the feeling of the hot hard flesh under his tongue slowly growing more familiar with each long slide, then ends in a sucking kiss just below the head. Ippo's hips jerk up, bumping his cock against Miyata's nose and reminding him that he forgot to leave important instructions.

"Don't thrust," he says firmly, pulling away just enough to speak. _For now_ , he thinks but doesn't say, since it's probably better not to distract Ippo with future prospects. He waits for Ippo to nod frantically before adding: "You can touch me, though."

Ippo just stares at him for a moment before he gets the cue. He shifts his weight to one elbow so he can reach out and hover his hand over Miyata's shoulder. Miyata gives him a look and grabs his wrist to guide Ippo's hand to his head. "Ah, right," Ippo says faintly, carefully sliding his fingers through Miyata's hair.

Miyata rewards him by licking over the head of his cock, the quick wet stripes leaving it shiny with spit, before he flattens his tongue against it and sucks lightly on the tip. He must be doing something right, because Ippo gasps and flops down as if unable to hold himself up anymore. His hand in Miyata's hair tightens before he forces it to relax again. Miyata hums a little, pleased with the reaction, and slowly slides his mouth over the wide head, careful to avoid the indignity of choking on Ippo's dick like an amateur.

It's a bit unfortunate that Ippo's going to experience Miyata's learning curve first-hand, but it's not like Miyata's going to practice cocksucking elsewhere — even if he wanted to, he's pretty sure no test subject would compare to Ippo's cock. It's a unique challenge, but certainly not one Miyata's going to back down from, even if he'll need to take it slow to avoid missteps. Judging by Ippo's gasping whimpers, he's enjoying Miyata's attempt anyway.

Ippo's still not exactly loud, but it seems like he's either not trying or unable to keep quiet anymore — both good options. He's making noises now, gasps of Miyata's name and wordless groans when Miyata tries sucking on his cock, broken up by panting for air when the tension eases off. His hand keeps gripping Miyata's hair before he remembers himself and relaxes his hold, rubbing small circles with the pads of his fingers in unnecessary apology.

His cock feels even bigger in Miyata's mouth than it looks, and Miyata pulls off after a while when his jaw grows sore from the stretch. He goes back to licking slowly over the shaft, up up up to the head where he flicks his tongue over the slit. Ippo sighs, the sound like relief tangled in pleasure, and he seems to melt further into the bed as he runs his fingers through Miyata's hair. It's not particularly helpful for determining what works best, since everything Miyata tries gets a good response, but that's not a bad problem to have.

The ache is fading fast with the slide of Miyata's tongue over the flushed skin, Ippo's cock working its magic on the pain as surely as it ever does. This may actually be the most practical use for the healing magic yet, almost like its intended purpose is to make life easier for Miyata on his mission to fit Ippo's dick in his mouth. He smiles a little at the thought and presses a kiss to the head in appreciation before taking it past his lips again.

He works up a beginning of a rhythm, first sucking Ippo's cock as best as he can, then backing up to lick and mouth at it for a while. And then he repeats the process when he's ready to dive in again, taking it in a little deeper and wrapping his hand around the length, then easing off when the tension in his jaw grows too far past discomfort.

Ippo doesn't seem to mind the breaks at all. As much as the inside of Miyata's mouth makes Ippo's hips strain with the effort of keeping still and the sounds rise in volume, just dragging his lips across the head draws a breathless _aaah_ out of Ippo, quieter but good enough to send a thrill through Miyata. He slides his knee up for better leverage and grinds his hips against the bed, his own hard cock pressing into the seam of his sweatpants. He should've taken them off earlier, but he was too distracted with undressing Ippo, and there's no way to do it now without pulling away or wriggling around like an idiot, so it'll have to wait until he's done.

Miyata had a plan to treat this like round one, meant to be mostly about feeling out what he's up against. But it's all too easy to slide his eyes closed and lose himself to the feeling of Ippo's cock full and heavy on his tongue, to let Ippo's stuttered moans spread heat through his body. Ippo's hand tightens in his hair again — not really a push, but a suggestion of one — and Miyata follows thoughtlessly, sinking further down, his lips sliding wetly over the shaft.

But then, inevitably, the head of Ippo's cock pushes against the back of his mouth, bumping into the soft palate, and if Miyata was prepared — if this was a deliberate move rather than a result of impulsive desire — maybe he'd be able to keep his reaction in check. As it is, he can't stop his throat from constricting on a muffled _mpfff_ of instinctive protest, and he can't keep his head from jerking back to escape the pressure.

It seems like Ippo wasn't prepared either. He chokes out Miyata's name, dragging it out into a sob, and his free hand, the one not grasping Miyata's hair, slaps against the sheets once, twice. Miyata pulls off in time to see Ippo shudder all over, and then it barely takes one more squeeze of his hand before Ippo's coming, his mouth open on a loud groan and his fingers clenching in Miyata's hair, pulling almost to the point of pain.

Miyata blinks stray tears out of his eyes and strokes Ippo through his orgasm, pressing his hips against the bed with urgency not lessened even by the stab of irritation over his slip-up. Finally Ippo's hand goes slack, sliding out of Miyata's hair to flop onto the sheets. Miyata pushes himself up to all fours to better see the result of his efforts — Ippo sprawled on his bed, spent and loose, panting quietly as he catches his breath.

He dips down again to lick up Ippo's softening cock one more time (okay, two times, so it can start working on the lingering ache in his scalp), and it gives a last valiant twitch accompanied by a gasping sigh from Ippo. Miyata considers the mess they've made of Ippo's chest for a moment, and then swipes his tongue through Ippo's come experimentally. The taste is not great, but he can work with it. Next time, then.

Ippo blinks up at him when Miyata hovers over his face again. "Miyata-kun..." he says and then trails off, like he forgot all other words. That's okay, he's got the important part down.

Rather than give him a chance to regain the power of speech, Miyata leans down to kiss him. His lips, still a little sore from the stretch and friction, sting a bit as they kiss. He presses in harder.

He fumbles at the string of his sweatpants, fingers suddenly clumsy with impatience. Ippo's hand knocks against his on its way to hook his fingers in Miyata's waistband. "Um, should I...?" Ippo asks.

"You should," Miyata agrees, finally yanking the tie free and pushing his pants down his hips before he tips to the side to lie on the bed.

Ippo turns to mirror Miyata on his side and for once doesn't hesitate before he reaches for him, wrapping his fingers around Miyata's cock and stroking. The pace is slower than Miyata would've picked for himself, but the feeling of Ippo's hand dragging friction up and down the length is good enough that he doesn't complain, just blows out an unsteady breath and settles in for the ride.

He presses his hot cheek against the covers, ready to turn his face further into the pillow if necessary. But Ippo's not watching his face anyway, attention focused on where his hand's working over Miyata's cock, steady but picking up speed as Miyata's breathing grows more erratic the closer he gets to the edge. When Ippo finally drags his gaze up, it's only to stop at Miyata's mouth. He stares for a moment, his own lips falling apart on a sigh before he sucks his lower lip in to bite down on it.

Miyata sucks in air and pulls him close so he can muffle his groan against Ippo's lips, his hips jerking forward to fuck into Ippo's fist as he comes, tension finally unwinding with his release. Despite their best efforts the kiss consists mostly of him panting into Ippo's mouth, so Miyata pulls away for a bit to catch his breath properly.

By the time he opens his eyes again, the afterglow's settled in enough that he's too languid to feel self-conscious about being seen like this. Ippo's watching him intently, eyes still a little hazy with pleasure but bright with adoration. "Miyata-kun, you... you're so cool."

Miyata huffs a little, less satisfied with his own performance than Ippo seems to be. "I'm gonna get better at that," he promises. Good enough that Ippo has no room for thought with Miyata's mouth on his cock, much less for worrying about some imagined problems.

"Me too," Ippo replies at once, earnestly. His hand, resting on the sheets between them and probably sticky with Miyata's come, curls into a fist.

Miyata has to laugh then, the sound amused and fond, trailing off into breathless chuckling as the last dregs of tension melt away now that they're on more familiar ground. Because even though what they're doing is still very new, this — challenging and motivating each other — this is exactly how it's always been between the two of them.

Ippo's lips curve into an answering smile, but he looks a bit unsure about it. Before he can ask, Miyata shuffles closer to him, slides his hand around Ippo's neck and pulls him into a kiss. It's much easier than trying to explain the warm feeling spilling over from his chest.

This kiss is more coordinated, unhurried, and Ippo makes a content sound against his lips when Miyata cards his fingers through his hair. Ippo puts his hand lightly on Miyata's waist before moving it to the small of his back and nudging them closer still. Their knees bump against each other briefly before they figure them out.

It's hard to say if Ippo meant getting practice at returning the favor, or if having his dick sucked is a skill requiring more training, but all of their prospects sound good anyway. Miyata smiles into the kiss, because this too feels familiar.

Ippo always had a way of making Miyata look forward to practice.


End file.
